The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 779

Chapter 779: Descent of the Stormborn

Tak tak tak.

Tak tak tak.

The mechas overhead adjusted in rhythm, creating a pulsing tension that rippled across the venue as two shadows dropped into the open road.

They landed with a force that felt ancient. Heavy. Reverberating.

To the soldiers watching, there was no doubt. Without the spiritual energy blanketing the ground, the impact would have left craters. The audience nearest the landing zone even had to dig in their heels as a burst of wind rolled toward them, strong enough to knock them off their feet.

But it wasn’t just the audience digging in their heels. Because Rahil Fayrion, aide to one elven prince, was actually trying his best not to jab at his lord.

If the guy kept tensing like that, they might end up being noticed for all the wrong reasons.

Surely he didn’t want a particular delegation assuming he was out there thinking of unsavory thoughts, right?

They already had a million problems. If they added that on top of everything else, would they even survive?

The concerned aide tried to get the prince’s attention to remind him to keep his shit together, because who knew who might be looking. But apparently, there wasn’t really any need for it, since even he forgot about his boss and best friend after being compelled to look.

Yes. Compelled.

The arrival of the first figure sent goosebumps down the arms of the nearest spectator.

Dark hair swept neatly to one side. Not a single strand moved out of place. The air around her felt unnervingly still, as if her very presence muted all disturbance.

No theatrics. No unnecessary movement.

She hardly seemed to land at all. It was as if the ground came to meet her rather than the other way around. Confidence radiated off her in quiet waves.

But the most striking thing he noticed was her eyes. Sharp, calculating, and observing. She had that calm poise of someone who noticed everything and was appropriately evaluating their worthiness.

But worthiness for what?

However, before Rahil could figure out the answer to that, the second figure came into view.

She straightened with regal ease. Her silhouette cut clean lines against the lingering smoke. When the light touched her, everyone saw a figure whose presence felt sculpted for command.

Her skin glowed like polished jade, and the cascade of deep red hair just highlighted her presence even more.

She stood tall. A perfect pillar. A posture one could only be born into, yet sharpened through generations of expectation.

Then Rahil watched her lips curve.

A small thing. Subtle. A little insane. Yet devastating in effect.

Rahil’s mind blanked for a second. Then returned with a single thought.

Shit.

He immediately checked the prince beside him, praying to every known deity that his lord wouldn’t be arrested today.

Thankfully, no one noticed the weirdness of one elven prince and the internal screaming of one poor aide.

Because no one had time or desire to look anywhere else.

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